“Why do we keep coming here?” he hisses instead, his usually calm composure reduced to bared teeth and eyes the arctic gray of frost. “Dad couldn’t give a shit if we visited or not. Macie drives me fucking nuts. Jacob…” He lets himself trail off like his feelings towards that piece of shit doesn’t need elaboration. “We have no reason to keep coming back here.”
That raises my eyebrow. We both know exactly why we’re here. We know why we bother making the effort, and it has nothing to do with the three mentioned.
“You know why,” I remind him gently.
That only seems to agitate him further. His very spine goes rigid, mirroring the fierce clenching of his jaw.
“You need to get over that.”
Both eyebrows spring up. “That?” I mimic, refusing to believe my own ears. “Since when did Isla become a… that we need to get over?”
He scratches hard at his cheek, still refusing to meet my eye. “You know what I mean.”
“Do I?” I counter, cocking my head. “She has always been the goal.”
Furious sparks practically shoot from the gaze he pivots in my direction at last. “Your goal. I told you why it was a bad idea. Why she was a bad idea. Everything about her is chaos, Dom.She’s a walking hazard. Letting her into our lives will destroy everything.”
Nick has always been vocal about his reasons to keep Isla at arm’s length, but this is beyond any conversation we’ve ever had.
“What the hell are you talking about?” I growl out.
The chest I have always loved expands with his deep inhale. “I don’t want her.”
Chapter Eight
?Nicolas?
I can’t remember a single time I’ve ever lied to Dom.
Even as kids, I told him everything straight and to the point. I confessed every secret and shared every fear. That man knows me better than God himself.
Yet, I stood face to face with him, looked him dead in the eye and lied.
Not just to him, but myself. I think in a lot of ways, I was lying to him to convince myself. Not sure how well that worked when I still want Isla with a ferocity that cripples my soul and that scares the shit out of me.
“What do you mean you don’t want her?” Dom demands with a calm that ripples like a stone tossed into smooth waters.
I could lie twice.
Double down.
Break my promise to myself and two decades of trust to maintain this ridiculous charade. But it wouldn’t resolve anything. Dom will have follow up questions. He’ll demand better answers. Above all that, he will know I’m lying.
“I can’t,” I correct, attempting to salvage what’s left of my bravado. “I can’t want her, Dom.”
My explanation is met with the deep pull of his brows. “Is this that sister bullshit?”
Yes.
No.
I’m saved from answering when Macie appears at the end of the corridor. Eyes the muddy brown of mop water blinks with surprise at finding us blocking the bathroom.
“Oh, goodness.” She giggles, clutching a hand over her heart. “Is everything alright?”
“We’re having a private conversation,” Dom practically snaps at her.
I interrupt. “We just need a minute, Macie.”
